


Motivation

by Dracothelizard



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: Desk Sex, Dominant Sotherby, Gags, Kink Meme, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:32:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: Written for the HHanon kinkmeme back in 2011.Prompt:  Charles II/Sothers, desk!sexLook at how organised Sothers is. A man that organized must have a big desk somewhere, right?So, yes, desk sex. And maybe some paper ruining while they're at it~.





	Motivation

Sotherby is a patient man. He has to be, or else he wouldn't be chief advisor to the King. Anyone else would've been driven to distraction by the King's tendency to party all night and turn up hungover the next day to listen to reports and make important decisions.  
  
Or, well, doze his way through meetings and councils while Sotherby has to briefly condenses hours of discussions into brief highlights so the King can make the decision before partying again.  
  
It's frustrating to deal with a boss who shirks his responsibilities like this, who barely pays attention to what matters while Sotherby does most of the work.  
  
Fortunately, the perks more than make up for it.  
  
And to be fair, when the King _does_ pay attention, he does his job well.   
  
*  
  
Sotherby is going through the latest financial report, in order to make a summary that the King can understand in under a minute. It's tough, but he thinks he's getting there. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes to finish the writing, and then he can start going through the planning for tomorrow.  
  
“Sothers!”  
  
He sighs, and looks up to see the King in the doorway, beaming at him. “Your Majesty.”  
  
The King strolls over to him, standing next to Sotherby's chair and looking at all the papers spread across the desk. “What're you doing?”   
  
“Finances, Sire,” Sotherby explains. “I'll give you the summary tomorrow.”   
  
The King nods, and walks behind Sotherby to lean over his shoulder. “Sounds like it'll bore me to tears, Sothers,” he says quietly.   
  
Sotherby glances at the King. They have a... way of dealing with him when he gets too bored. “Really?” he asks.   
  
The King trails a finger over Sotherby's desk. “Hmm. Terrible dull stuff.” He smirks down at Sotherby. “You're never going to keep my attention with that.”   
  
“I'm sure I'll find a way,” Sotherby says. He takes a deep breath to swallow the annoyance. The King could just _ask_ , but he prefers to annoy Sotherby thoroughly first. He says it makes it more fun, and Sotherby won't admit it, but the King is right. Being _just_ frustrated and annoyed enough makes it more enjoyable.   
  
“Oh, I can't wait to see you try that!” The King grins, and hops onto Sotherby's desk. He picks up part of the report, and reads it while swinging his legs. “You're going to make _this_ interesting?”   
  
Sotherby just smirks. “I am, Sire.” Challenge extended...   
  
The King shrugs, and throws it back on the table haphazardly. “I should like to see you try.” Challenge accepted.

“You're messing up the report, Sire,” Sotherby says, and he stands up.   
  
“Did I?” The King asks, innocently smiling up at him. “Oh well. Can't be helped.” He picks up another sheet of the report, and Sotherby grabs him by the wrist.  
  
“Put it back, your Majesty,” Sotherby tells him, moving closer. “Put it back on the desk.”   
  
The King just looks at him, his pupils already wide and his cheeks flushed. “No,” he whispers.   
  
Sotherby snarls, and lets go of the King's wrist to take the sheet and throws it back on the desk. Then he sweeps the papers out of the way, and pushes the King down on his back, both hands on his wrists. “What did you say?” he asks, leaning over him.   
  
“Mm, I said 'no', Sothers,” he replies, and wriggles a little under Sotherby's grip. He grins. “What're you going to do about it?”   
  
He pushes him down firmly, the grip on his wrists just a bit too hard, and Charles gasps again. “You're very badly behaved today, Sire,” he mutters, bringing his face closer to the Charles'.   
  
He squirms, and whimpers a little. “Really? Maybe you should do something about that.” He looks up at Sotherby, his pupils are definitely blown now.   
  
Sotherby smirks. He loves it when Charles'll let him do this. “I think I have something in mind...” He lets go of Charles, and steps back.  
  
Charles stares at him, puzzled and slightly disappointed. “Sothers?”   
  
“Clothes off first, I think.” Sotherby tells him.   
  
That brings the smile back on Charles' face.

He's not surprised that Charles manages to get his clothes off in only a few seconds, and he looks his fill for a moment.  
  
Charles actually starts to blush a little. “Well?” he says, eventually back to his defiant self.   
  
Sotherby closes the distance between them swiftly to push Charles against the desk and give him a thorough kiss.   
  
Charles kisses him back immediately, and grabs his jacket to pull him closer. “Sothers,” he whimpers, as Sotherby starts to kiss down his neck, leaving bites as he goes. “Please.” Charles starts to move against Sotherby, rubbing his groin against his clothed thigh.   
  
“Stay still,” Sotherby says, and puts one hand on Charles' hip to keep him in place, and bites down harder on Charles' shoulder.  
  
Charles whines as he leans back against the desk. “I – God – Sotherby!”   
  
“And be quiet.” This is his office, and while he's sure Charles locked the door behind him, they don't want to attract any attention.   
  
Charles just whimpers again, and is clearly struggling to keep from rutting against Sotherby. It's very _very_ difficult for Charles to keep quiet, which is the whole point.   
  
“Good man,” Sotherby whispers against his skin. “Very good.”   
  
“Just, please.” His breath is coming fast, but to his credit, Charles asks it quietly. He glances up at Sotherby, pleading with his eyes.   
  
And Sotherby never can resist those eyes, so he steps back to turn Charles around, and bends him over the desk.   
  
Charles lets out a surprised gasp when Sotherby's hand ends up on the back of his neck, holding him down. Not that Charles is trying to struggle.   
  
He leans over Charles, making sure to press his entire body against him, from the back of his thighs to his upper back. "Well done for keeping quiet," Sotherby whispers in his ear. "Do you think you can stay quiet, or do I need to gag you?" He pointedly rubs his own hard cock, clothed as it still is, against Charles' bare arse.  
  
Charles arches into it, and closes his eyes as he moans a little. "I - I think a gag is in order," he says quietly.

He grabs one of Charles' shirts, stuffing part of it into a ball in Charles' mouth, while using the sleeves to tie a knot behind Charles' head. "All right?" he asks.  
  
Charles nods, and winks at him.   
  
Sotherby turns to get a flask of lotion from one of his desk drawers. It's hidden underneath some very old and dull papers, something no one would even think to look under. "Excellent." He looks as Charles relaxes against the desk, eyes closed, clearly waiting for him.   
  
Sotherby won't make him wait long, but he'll have his fun preparing Charles. He trails his fingers over Charles' arse, making him whine into the gag impatiently and push back. "Stay still, I said."   
  
Charles opens his eyes to roll them at Sotherby, but he remains still.   
  
"Good." By means of reward, he coats one finger in lotion and slides it inside Charles.  
  
He wishes he didn't have to gag Charles, because he wants to hear the moan that's muffled by Charles' shirt. He knows what it sounds like, desperate and needy, and it makes him want to push his breeches down and fuck Charles right now, but he keeps his plan in mind.   
  
He slides a second finger in, and Charles' hands curl into tight fists as Charles groans again. He keeps moving his fingers until Charles bucks against the table and whines. That's when Sotherby pulls his fingers out and drapes himself over Charles' back again. "I said stay still." He bites at Charles' earlobe, just visible over the gag.   
  
Charles shares a glance with him, his eyes are full of need and want, his breathing laboured.   
  
"So, do as I say," Sotherby tells him, and grabs one of Charles' hips firmly to keep him in place. He uses the other to undo his breeches - slightly awkward, but nothing he hasn't done before - and push them down before _finally_ sliding his cock inside Charles.   
  
It's all he has to keep quiet himself, especially as Charles lets out a delicious moan.   
  
He keeps still for a moment, mostly to annoy Charles who makes an impatient noise, but Charles can't move himself, and Sotherby laughs briefly. "Something wrong?" he asks innocently.  
  
Charles just lets out a huff.   
  
Sotherby isn't filled with patience himself at the moment, and he slowly starts to fuck Charles, making sure his hand keeps Charles' hip firmly against the desk to keep him from moving. His fingers will probably leave bruises, but who'll suspect he's the one who left them there?   
  
Charles' muffled whines continue, growing in desperation until Sotherby shifts position slightly, because that's when Charles manages to arch against him and moans into the gag. His arms are spread across the desk, and Sotherby watches with some worry when one of Charles' scrabbling hands grab hold of the report he's been finishing.   
  
The worry grows into anger when Charles tightens his hand around it, crumpling the sheet of paper. "Dammit, Charles," he mutters, but Charles doesn't seem to care as Sotherby's anger gets channelled into fucking Charles harder and rougher.   
  
Charles pushes himself back against Sotherby, his eyes are closed and he's moaning with every thrust while his other flailing hand has thrown Sotherby's pens off the desk.   
  
"Stop making a mess," he pants, emphasising each word with a thrust, but Charles is clearly not listening, he's too busy groaning as he gets fucked.   
  
He can tell Charles is getting closer, though, from the way he's trying to push against Sotherby more desperately, and the way his whines are higher-pitched.   
  
He thrusts harder into Charles, as far as he can, and does it again. The third time he does it, Charles arches his back, and Sotherby is very relieved the gag is there to muffle that moan.   
  
Charles is slumped over the desk as Sotherby continues to fuck him, quiet whimpers as Sotherby speeds up his thrusts and comes himself.

Charles takes a moment to catch his breath while Sotherby does his breeches back. He's mostly presentable by the time Charles pushes himself up. "That was _marvellous_ , Sothers," Charles murmurs, when he undoes the knot.   
  
"Except for the bit where you've ruined my report," Sotherby says.  
  
Charles looks at the rumpled paper he left on the desk. "It's not _that_ ruined."  
  
Sotherby just looks at him.  
  
"Well, I was _slightly_ distracted," Charles says, and wraps his arms around Sotherby to give him a kiss.  
  
Sotherby's resolve not to kiss him back lasts for about a second. "You will have to go now," he says eventually. "I'm going to need to re-write that report."  
  
Charles nods, and steps back. "I'm sure you can find an appropriate punishment for me."   
  
"Oh, I already know the _perfect_ punishment," Sotherby says, and smirks as Charles' eyes light up.   
  
"Really?" Charles asks breathily.   
  
"Mm, I was thinking that I could make you listen to Robertson," Sotherby tells him. "You know, the chief financial advisor? He's prepared an hour long report especially for you."   
  
Charles gapes at him, then bursts out laughing. "You are a cruel, cruel man." Then he pouts. "You won't _really_ make me listen to him, are you?"   
  
"If you promise to leave now and not bother me again today," Sotherby replies, smiling.   
  
"Oh, fine," Charles says. "I have important parties to plan anyway."   
  
As Charles gets his clothes back on, Sotherby sits back in his chair and cleans up the mess they've made. Time to get back to work.


End file.
